


Unicorn Frappuccino

by chiapslock



Series: Univamp [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Supernatural Elements, With a twist?, coffee shop!AU, this is a stupid fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 10:15:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12033807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiapslock/pseuds/chiapslock
Summary: Keith is a terrible barista and Shiro keeps ordering coffee with so much added sugar it's making him go insane. It's a normal meet-cute.More or less.





	Unicorn Frappuccino

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RukaIsAFan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RukaIsAFan/gifts), [catpoop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catpoop/gifts).



> So this started because as a punishment I had to write a happy Cofee Shop!AU  
> Uhm I did it! More or less... But yes this is all Ruka's and Alex's fault.

Keith is bored, which is not exactly unusual at this time of the night. The usual customers have come and gone and what he’ll get for the rest of his shift are drunktards, at best, and annoyances, at worst.

He honestly doesn’t know _why_ this coffee shop needs to be open 24/7, seems like a bit of a overkill since the sells don’t really seem to cover the costs most of the time, but he can’t really say anything: he needs this job.

Keith is in desperate need of a steady income and the night shift is the only one he can work, so really this is a blessing in disguise. At the same time he’s bored out of his mind and he doesn’t have anything to do.

There are another two hours before the end of his shift and he has already finished his book for the night. Today _sucks_.

It’s at this point that someone enters the coffee shop and Keith is surprised enough that he almost smacks his face on the counter. He looks up and what he sees is a man, tired and a little smelly, who smiles weakly at him.

He looks good, even if it’s obvious he needs to sleep for at least three whole days, has a lot of muscles—probably works out— his hair are black with a strange white turf in the middle and a faint scar on his nose. He doesn’t look like the usual crowd that keeps him company during the night.

“Do you serve coffee?” the guys asks and Keith hopes he can contain the incredule face. It’s a coffee shop, they are litterally called Voltron Coffee, what does this guy think they do?

“Yes” he replies in what he hopes it’s his best cordial tone, but fears it comes more as a _you complete moron_ than anything else. Well, he has given it his best shot.

The man doesn’t really seem to mind anyway, laughing a little “Oh, thank God. I need a–”.

So, okay there aren’t that many people that ask for coffee in the hours between 22 PM and 5 AM, which is when his sfift begins and ends, and even when they do they are normal, easy to make, orders. Keith thinks he doesn’t even know where they keep half of that stuff. Is that even legal?

The man looks at him expectanly, with an encouraging smile that’s managing to piss him the fuck off in two seconds flat, so Keith _tries_. He looks around for everything in the other’s order, tries to understand how to mix it together and probably makes a mess of it, but in the end he has… _something_.

“Uhm. Here it is” he says, holding out the cup and wondering if he can convince the guy to pay _before_ tasting whatever Keith has just served him. After that he can just kick the guy out, it’s not like there’s any hope of having him as a loyal customer after the drink Keith has just made.

The guy takes the cup and drinks from it immediately. Keith grimaces slightly because he can already see how the rest of the night will go—the guy will scream at him, demand to talk to the manager and when Keith will tell him that he’s the only one here, he should try at a normal hour when most people aren’t sleeping, the man will storm off and refuse to pay.

The guy scrunches his nose and here it goes: “This was terrible. Thanks, I needed it. How much is it?” Or not. Apparently.

Keith looks surprised for a second, too shocked to do anything, and then he says a number he hopes it’s right. The man nods and pays quickly.

Keith is so _confused_.

Before he can ask anything the man is already gone, drinking his terrible coffee and Keith is left there wondering _what the fuck_ has just happened.

 

 

He forgets it quickly, people have strange tastes and people who order coffee at 3 AM probably aren’t completely all right in the head, but then the same dude shows up the night after. And the night after that. He always orders terrible coffees that have no business being drunk by anyone, really, and that Keith keeps messing it up—not really on purpose, but at one point he’s gonna start giving up trying— and seems perfectly happy with it.

On the third night Keith just explodes.

“Okay, what is this? I mean we appreciate our patronage, but I actualy think I didn’t even put half of the thing you ordered in that!” he hisses. He had tried, but God at one point during the man’s order he had just… stopped paying attention.

The man looks surprised for a second at Keith, and then at his cup “That’s why it was slightly better than usual”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” he says, pointing at him “you don’t even like what you order! What is your deal?”

He’s almost expecting the man to be angry, but when the other starts to laugh he can admit he finds it a little offensive. Completely understandable, after all Keith had just blown up on a customer, but offensive.

“I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t think you minded. I’m a paramedic, they transfered me to the night shift a week ago and I _hate it_. I need to stay awake bur normal coffee doesn’t do the trick” he raises his cup “terrible, sugary coffee? The only thing keeping me awake. I think the added sugar gives me the energy.”

Keith blink at the explanation, strange as it is, but relaxes. “You’re weird,” he says, anyway, because that sounds like the stupidest thing he has heard in a while.

The man shrugs “I know, my colleague tells me all the time” he’s smirking a little, amused. “Also you make the worst coffee I’ve ever tasted, I’m grateful”

“We live to serve” he deadpans and the guys laughs again. He looks a little bit younger when he laughs and Keith tries to give him an age, probably less than the thirty-five he had given him the first night.

“Look, if my orders rile you up so much just put in it what you want” the guy says “I don’t like coffee anyway, I can stand black coffee, I guess, anything else tastes like sugar-y crap to me.”

Keith raises an eyebrow and then thinks for a minute “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Thinking something up every night was getting a little tiring” the man answers, shrugging. Keith smiles and thinks that he’s gonna make this man’s life impossible. It seems only fair.

“I’m Shiro, by the way” Shiro says, with a smile, drinking his coffee. Keith nods in aknowledgement.

“I’m Keith” he says, because it’s only fair. And because it’s written on his tag, so who cares.

“Okay, Keith, looking forward to tomorrow!” Shiro says, leaving the store. And for once Keith thinks he might be looking forward to it too.

 

 

The thing is: Keith takes it personally.

It might be because his shift is still pretty boring when it comes down to it, or because he’s a little shit and he can freely admit it, but it becomes a challenge.

So he does a Pumpkin Spice Latte with a shot of espresso, soy milk and full fat whip cream and enjoys the way Shiro almost gags before giving him a thumbs up. He makes a mocha with one shot of espresso, double the mocha, two pumps white mocha, whip and caramel drizzle and when Shiro says he likes mocha he adds so much sugar Shiro is almost crying by the end. It’s worth it.

He doesn’t know what he wants to accomplish, maybe he will be satisfied when he makes the perfect sugary-death that will make Shiro give up life all together, but mostly he’s just enjoying himself, which is pretty rare these days.

They also become friends, it’s a strange relationship because they only meet during the shift, but it helps that Shiro has the same free day as him, also that the paramedic is a dork that keeps talking.

Shiro stays for a little while every night, sipping his disgusting drink and laughing. It’s a nice change of pace from the rest of his shift, where the only thing he has to look forward too are the homeless people looking for something cold.

So Keith _tries_. And Shiro seems to be _appreciating_ it and… it’s all confusing, yes, but Keith has never been one to worry too much about things. And then one night, almost a months after, Shiro is _late_.

Keith has completed the coffee order of the day twenty minutes before because Shiro always came around 3AM, when he took his break. Now he is late.

It doesn’t have to mean anything, really, maybe he’s just doing other things. Or skipping his break. Or just… not coming. Maybe he feels awake enough and what reason would there be for him to come to the seedy coffee shop opened 24/7?

He might as well throw the coffee away, it’s not like he can eat it. He has almost done when the door opens and Keith _stops_.

The first thing that hits him is the smell of blood, stong and pungent. It smells _fresh_. He looks at the door and sees Shiro with a little smile and advancing quickly. There doesn’t seem to be any blood on him, but he reeks of it. He also seems tired, much like the first day he had walked in, and his smile isn’t as bright as usual.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro says, sitting down in one of the stall. He had never done it, but Keith can’t really focus on it. He’s scanning Shiro, trying to find the cut. He _has_ to be hurt for such a strong scent.

“Are you okay?” he asks, a little frantic. Shiro raises his head and smiles, but even that is tired and lacks the usual enthusiasm.

“Yeah. It was just an accident. We couldn’t save anyone” he explains “had to change all my clothes. There was a lot of blood” there is an hollowness to his voice that makes Keith want to do crazy things.

“I’m gonna make you a coffee” he says instead, because while not something he _knows_ how to do, it’s easier than understanding what’s happening to him.

Shiro simply points to the coffee he’s getting ready to throw away and Keith grimaces. “It’s a little cold” he explains—and it sounds better than: I waited for you to show up for an hour.

Shiro laughs and shrugs, a little looser than before. “I’m gonna hate it anyway. Give me the coffee, I need it. Don’t be cruel” and it’s obvious Shiro is trying to be funny and cheerfull, but it falls flat.

The paramedic puts his forehead on the counter, probably to shake off some of the exhaustrion. Keith wants to reach out and comb his fingers into his hair. They look soft, clean and probably smell quite nice and for a second he lets himself think about it. He almost does it too, raises his hand and reaches for the other’s head, but then he notices a streak of blood on Shiro’s temple, probably something he hasn’t been able to clear up.

Immediately he feels a pressure on his throat, a old companion, and he tries to remember the last time he’s had a decent meal. It’s entirely too long and he blames himself for going so long without drinking blood.

Keith almost curses out loud, but he stops himself and takes the coffee, putting it beside Shiro and taking three steps away. The smell of blood, fear and guilt is still strong, in a way, but Keith has always been good at shutting down his senses.

He hasn’t lost control in over one hundred years and he won’t start now.

Shiro raises his head and takes the cup immediately with a smile “Thank you, you’re saving my life”

Keith just shrugs and tries not to look at the red stain on the other’s temple too much.

 

 

Keith has been a vampire for almost one hundred years now. It sounds like a lot, but it really isn’t, all things considered.

He has spent the first fifty years learning control, mastering his new powers and sending a kind _fuck you_ note to Lotor, his ‘sire’ and getting the hell away from him. So now he’s here, with so little money he needs to work to buy the blood he needs—because he has stopped actually feeding from living humans, since the uprisings. The Bats of Marmoras are very strict in their feeding from mortals rules.

Night shifts are the only shifts he can take, for obvious reasons, and he spends his free night every week usually relaxing or going to one of the BOM’s helpers to buy blood. It’s not the marvelous life vampire’s books make you believe, but it works.

Also his mortal life had been a disaster anyways, so at least now he gets to live forever.

There’s only the downside that he has to drink blood to live. And that when his friend comes by reeking of blood and exhaustion the best he can do is hand him coffee and then stay away from him.

So. Pros and Cons.

 

 

Keith buys blood the next free night he has and it makes the sting in his throat lessen. It also helps that Shiro never comes to the shop stinking _that_ much.

The problem now is, however, that since that night Keith… he keeps trying to smell Shiro. It’s strange, something he hasn’t done in a long time, but every night the paramedic takes his coffee and Keith can’t resist _sniffing_ for a second.

Now that his brain has associated Shiro and blood in the same frame it’s like he can’t stop _thinking_ about it.

It’s not like Keith hadn’t realized that Shiro was hot before, but he had been an annoying customer and then a way to spend time, and then a ‘friend’. Now Keith wants to _bite_ him. Hard.

He had hated Lotor and the way he treated his mortals with a passion, but he can now understand the need to keep a human in his house to feed on. Only Keith might also want to _talk_ with Shiro and hear about his day. And walk under the moonlight, and take his hand.

Shit. He wants to date Shiro (and suck his blood, that’s still a thing).

This particular revelation comes to him one night, while he’s handing the last terrible beverage to Shiro, and he almost lets the cup drop.

Shiro looks at him a little worriedly and Keith might have to take drastic measures like build a castle somewhere and take Shiro away. He’s ready to channel his inner Dracula if needed.

“I’m fine. Worry for yourself, you look almost dead” Keith replies, out loud, and Shiro laughs at the joke.

“If it’s ‘almost’ it’s a step up from how I feel” he says back and Keith would send him a smile back if he could stop looking at his throat.

This is becoming a problem.

 

 

He just needs to buy more blood. His pay isn’t enough to cover it, not with rent, but he can manage somehow. He just needs enough to figure out a solution.

So he calls his contact and goes to buy some blood the next free night and if his usual seller is looking at him a little strangely, well Keith doesn’t need to be judged by him too—he’s already doing a great job.

The transaction is almost complete when they hear someone rounds up the little corner where they usually do their deals.

Keith had been distracted, it’s his fault, and he realizes his mistake only when he hears “—it’s just because I couldn’t take my usual coffee”. He looks back and he sees Shiro, and he has a cigarette in his hand.

Well, Keith has a bag of blood, so guess what is the surprise of the night?

“Keith?” Shiro asks, out loud, a little surprised. He looks down at Keith’s hands and the way his eyes widen means he can recognize that what they are doing isn’t exactly normal. Or legal.

“Uhm” he tries, but he isn’t sure if there is something he can say to make this better. His contact look at Keith and then at Shiro and he’s smelling a little bit panicky. _Great_.

Keith doesn’t want the contact to say anything to the Bats, but he also knows the contacts are chosen because they are immune to their enchantments—a way to make sure that vampires and humans can coexist. So the only thing he can do is make Shiro forget.

He signals to the seller to go away while Shiro is still too stunned to react.

“I thought you weren’t working today” it’s the first thing Keith says, because he does remember clearly that he and Shiro have the same day off. It might not be high in the list of priorities right now, but it seems like the safer alternative.

“Are you kidding me right now?” is what Shiro says, instead. Keith can’t really tell if Shiro is more afraid or angry, but any of those two is terrible.

He doesn’t want to enchant Shiro, screws all the plans he had made, but it might be for the best. He’ll make Shiro forget anything about this night, and Voltron, and then they will just… never meet again. It’s safer for Shiro and for Keith as well.

It makes his heart break—even if technically his heart hasn’t been beating in a long time—but it’s the best solution to all of their problems.

He raises his hand, then, and concentrates on Shiro. The other will fall prey of his spell quickly, just like all the other mortals, and this will be over.

All the jokes, the silly coffee orders, the friendship. Keith will go back to having a boring night shift.

Then Shiro says, angry, “What the fuck are you doing?” and Keith realizes that his enchantment isn’t working.

He opens his eyes, a little shocked, and looks at Shiro. It’s not working. Why isn’t it working?

Shiro keeps looking at him, angry and a little annoyed and Keith has no explanation for why this is happening. Not really. It’s only his quick reflexes that make him see that the other is taking out his phone. He moves with his unnatural speed and stops him from doing anything.

If words got out that Keith wasn’t able to charm him, he has no idea what the Bats would do. Shiro could be in danger or…

“How…” Shiro murmurs and Keith looks at him. He looks shocked, a little scared and incredibly confused. It’s obvious that he’s trying to understand what is going on and, with all the evidence, it’s not going to take a lot of time for him to arrive to the right conclusion.

So Keith is just gonna tell him “I’m a vampire. You can’t tell anyone.”

He sees Shiro’s eyes widen again, and he takes a step back, almost unconciously. Keith lets him go, because he doesn’t want to make him more scared than he already is.

“You’re…” he stops, almost as if he’s scared to finish the thought. Or maybe because he still thinks that something more it’s going on. So Keith just lets his fangs come out.

Shiro takes another steps back and he’s pale, so pale. Keith can hear his heart, beating frantically in his ribcage and he knows it’s too much to dump on someone.

He wants to move forward, wants to explain, wants to do _something_. Instead he doesn’t move while Shiro runs away.

Solution found.

 

 

Keith worries for a week.

He hasn’t heard for Shiro in all this time, but at the same time no one has entered the coffee shop with garlic. Or crosses. Or just every intention of killing him.

Odds are he will never meet Shiro again, but at least the other doesn’t hate him enough to send people after him. Keith will take his victories while he can.

He hasn’t said anything to anyone about Shiro and he hopes his contact had just thought that Keith had taken care of it. He hopes Shiro is safe.

All in all a week without seeing the man hasn’t really done anything for Keith’s crush, which might become a problem. Vampires are prone to obsession, it probably comes with the fact that they are usually wired to think about blood a lot.

So Keith stays there, night after night, and _obsesses_. He keeps making the stupid coffee orders, even if he knows Shiro won’t come—and he’s even proud of some of them, he thinks Shiro would hate them—and he looks at the door for hours. He feels like a faithful dog.

If Lotor could see him now he would be ashamed.

Then a week passes by, and another, and Keith is not less worried or obsessed, but he’s starting to get used to it, when the door opens at 3 AM. He looks up and stops dead in his tracks.

Shiro is at the door, a little hesitant but _there_. He looks tired as always, but Keith doesn’t even care. He wants to vault over the counter and… he’s not sure, he hasn’t been good with these things when he was alive, let alone now.

So he doesn’t move, treats Shiro like a scared animal that could bolt out of the door in a second. Not having to breathe comes in handy here, because he feels like every movement could spook Shiro away. And he would give up anything to avoid that.

“Uhm,” Shiro mumbles, but advances in the shop “can I… have some coffee?”

Keith nods, and then nods again, and then again. He might have to move soon to actually make the coffee, but right now he’s too stunned to properly move. It’s not even the usual hour, so he has nothing ready—thank heavens, he wouldn’t have known how to explain that—and it almost feels like an ambush.

He can’t stop _staring_ at Shiro and so he sees the moment the other just… relaxes—not a lot, not enough, but a little.

“See,” Shiro starts, pointing at him “that’s… that’s what I don’t understand. You don’t… you don’t look dangerous.” Keith doesn’t say anything to that because he _is_ dangerous, but he really doesn’t want Shiro to think that. He isn’t dangerous to Shiro, he doesn’t think, so he doesn’t really need to correct him. “And I mean you kept making me silly coffee orders and spending time with me and… I thought we were flirting. Maybe”

Keith nods, again, because damn that’s what he wants. That’s what he _needs_ and Shiro is doing a fantastic job of sorting this thing out without his help. He might actually start making the coffee, keep himself busy. Not ruin this.

“And then I find you buying blood from the hospital and I…” Shiro stops then and maybe Keith has to contribute something.

“We don’t drink from people anymore. There was a big… war, or something. Now it’s all controlled. We have jobs” he says, shaking the cup where he’s putting the shot of espresso “and we only feed from pre-approved bags. Unless we find a human willing to give us their blood, but that’s another thing. It doesn’t matter now.”

Shiro is looking at him, he can feel his gaze on his neck, but Keith can’t really meet his eyes. So he keeps making the coffee, adding anything he can think of, just to have more time. He’s not sure where this is heading, but he keeps thinking about Shiro and _flirting_.

“Keith,” Shiro calls him and it has a strange effect on him, almost as if Shiro had casted some kind of spell on him “can you look at me?”

He’s unable to refuse and he looks back, meets Shiro’s eyes and he’s terrified. He wants to take Shiro, he wants to _possess_ him. This whole thing is terrible.

Shiro studies him for a second and then a second more. It feels like an eternity before the other nods and there is a strange expression on his face, tentative but soft, it looks good on him.

“Can I drink my coffee here?” Shiro asks, and Keith nods again, like a fool. He feels his entire body relax, and he decides to test the water a little.

He finishes the cup of coffee at an inhuman speed and when he presents the result to Shiro he tries to look for any kind of fear. There’s wariness and confusion, but it feels like a miracle. Keith smiles, a little giddy with releaf.

Shiro smiles back with his terrible coffee cup.

 

 

It takes almost a month before Keith gathers enough courage to try and kiss Shiro. He uses the word try because he chickens out at the last minute, but Shiro just sighs and kisses Keith instead.

Keith can’t really complain.

It takes a lot more before one day Shiro looks at him while they are having sex and tells him to bite him. Keith stills completely. It’s not like he doesn’t think about it every day: he kisses Shiro and thinks about biting him, tasting his blood; he hugs Shiro and he smells him and he just wants to have every part of him. At the same time it seems like something he shouldn’t do.

But Shiro looks determined and he tells Keith to just do it already, so Keith obeys.

Shiro’s blood tastes divine. And it might be the sex, probably, but it also feels like Keith has so much energy now. He licks at Shiro’s wound and fucks into him faster, feels the way Shiro arches into him and he sucks more.

He stops himself before he can go to deep and it’s so difficult, so he keeps lickng at the wound, unable to stop completely. Shiro is a mess under him and he preens at the sight.

“God, Keith” Shiro murmurs, after, and Keith smiles, licking the remaining blood from his lips and Shiro’s shoulder. And that’s where it hits him. The energy, the _taste_.

Lotor had offered him Unicorn blood once, before Keith had figured out what a piece of shit his sire was, and he still remembers the taste to this day.

“Oh shit, you’re part Unicorn!” he says, unable to stop himself. That’s why the charm hadn’t worked on him!

Shiro stills under him and then, slowly he says “I don’t want to know.”

Keith opens his mouth to explain, but Shiro takes the pillow and puts it in his face. He can’t breathe, but thankfully he doesn’t need to.

“I told you I don’t want to know. Sleep” it’s clearly an order so Keith smiles and obeys. They can talk about it another day.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> First of all hidden in there there is a fic about Lotor finding out about Shiro and deciding he wants him for himself because fresh unicorn blood is impossible to find. About the BOM discovering about Shiro and deciding they want him on their side because Unicorns are powerful creatures and impossible to find. And Keith wants Shiro to be safe from all of this because another boyfriend is impossible to find.  
> You just gotta look harder for that story.
> 
> Thank you [Advante](http://advante.tumblr.com) for the chibi heads of Vampire!Keef and Unicorn!Beef <33
> 
> BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY THERE ARE IMPORTANT FANARTS!!! Masterpieces really  
> By Alex/Catpoop: [Keith and Shiro](https://twitter.com/hashtag_yikes/status/905710853244071936), [Vampire Keef](https://twitter.com/hashtag_yikes/status/905724864383688705)  
> By Ruka/RukaIsAFan: [Shiro](https://twitter.com/RukaIsAFan/status/905723722253852672)


End file.
